Sometimes I think I'm like that Crazy Feminist Aunt In The Attic in my blogging. Yellin' and screamin' and coming to family parties with a dead chicken pinned to my hat and slurping the coffee off the saucer and saying outrageous things innocently aloud and so everyone pretends not to notice. Battering at the floor. Yes, those spooky sounds you hear are me.
On the other hand, attics are lovely places, airy or crammed with goodies to examine, with space (at the top of the stairs) for dancing the jitterbug and with time-space for silence filled with sounds.
In other news, I can still make a great omelet, thanks for all the advice you gave me here some time ago. But now I want a house at a lakeside. Something like this one:
It's too small, though. But I love the tower. Perhaps two of these, put together so that there's a tower at each end?
What's your dream house?